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The Rancher's Mistress

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2018
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The news just a couple of weeks ago of his marriage and move to Wyoming had been a double shock as she had believed him to be still somewhere in Australia. Coming at a time when she so badly needed to get away from it all, his suggestion that she take a trip over to meet her new in-laws had seemed like manna from heaven. By the time she got back, the whole sorry business would hopefully be old news.

‘Mum sends her love,’ she said now, adding tentatively, ‘She hopes you’ll see your way to visiting some time.’

‘Not while he’s still around,’ was the more than half-anticipated answer.

‘It’s been eight years,’ Alex protested. ‘You might find him easier to get along with now.’

‘And cows might fly!’ Greg shook his head. ‘No way am I going back there. Mum made her choice when she married him.’

Alex gave up, recognising finality when she heard it. She could be obdurate herself when it came to something she felt strongly about, but this went beyond that.

‘Was it your brother-in-law’s suggestion that you invite me out to stay?’ she asked, by way of changing the subject.

‘More Margot’s. She’s looking forward to meeting you. She wanted to come with me to the airport, but I thought we should have some time on our own to start with. We’ve a lot of catching up to do.’ He put his foot down to overtake the only other vehicle in sight, shooting the speedometer needle over the seventy mark in total disregard of the speed limits and earning himself a horn blast from a gesticulating driver. ‘You never mentioned your own love life in your letters,’ he added, undisturbed by the censure. ‘Always providing I got them all, that is.’

‘I’d doubt it. You were hardly ever in one place long enough.’ Alex ran her hand under the silky curtain of hair at her nape, circling her small, firm chin in an effort to ease aching muscles. ‘I hope there’s plenty of hot water on tap. I feel in dire need of a shower!’

‘There’s plenty of everything on tap,’ Greg assured her. ‘And you didn’t answer the question.’

‘I didn’t realise you were asking one.’ She circled her chin in the other direction, concentrating on the movement. ‘If I haven’t mentioned men, it’s probably because there’s been no one special enough to write about.’

‘Maybe you’ll meet your one and only out here, then.’ Her laugh was short. ‘I’ll hardly be here long enough to develop any meaningful relationships.’

‘You never know. One look might be all it takes. You said you always wanted to be a cowgirl. This could be . your chance.’

‘It could at that.’ Alex summoned a suitably flippant note. ‘I’ll keep my eyes skimmed for a likely prospect.’

‘Don’t bother with the herd, go for the head bull,’ he advised. ‘Cat’s thirty-four. It’s high time he got hitched.’

‘Perhaps he’s married to his work. And I didn’t realise he was so much older than Margot,’ she tagged on contemplatively.

‘Her mother was into her forties when she had her. She died giving birth. Cal took over when his father was killed ten years ago. He started taking in dudes when beef prices went way down a couple of years later. There’s no call for any supplementary income these days but he still keeps them coming. Full capacity most summer weeks.’

‘It’s obviously a popular way to spend a vacation.’ Alex could think of no better way herself. ‘Are there likely to be any horses going spare? It’s been ages since I had chance of a ride.’

‘You’ll be able to take your pick,’ Greg confirmed. ‘Plenty of other activities too. Ever been hot-air ballooning?’

‘No—though I wouldn’t mind trying it. Not that I’m expecting to be treated like a paying guest. There must be plenty I can do to help out while I’m here.’

The thought alone was pleasurable. Stretching long, trouser-clad legs, Alex leaned back in her seat, determined to make the most of this opportunity. Mending fences, riding herd—it all sounded like heaven! Dorothy could have her Oz. She was going to be living her own fantasy this next week or two!

She must have dozed off after that. When she opened her eyes again the mountains were almost on top of them. They had left the main road, she saw, sitting up. The one they were on now was narrow, the surface roughened, the edges fenced off from the grassland either side. Horses grazed the immediate left-hand pasture.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said, stifling a yawn. ‘Flying always tires me out. How much further?’

‘We’ve been on Lazy Y for the last ten minutes,’ Greg returned. ‘That’s the homestead up ahead.’

Nestling at the head of the broad valley, the cluster of buildings resolved themselves into one large, central structure flanked by barns, with more buildings scattered among the trees beyond. Corrals occupied the foreground, one of them containing a mixed group of people in the process of unsaddling their mounts after a ride. Voices and laughter carried across on the still evening air as Greg brought the station wagon to a halt in front of the main house and killed the engine.

‘Back at the ranch,’ he said on an ironical note. ‘Cal’s probably still out there somewhere, but Margot will be around.’

Alex got out of the vehicle, easing her limbs and breathing in the sparkling air with enjoyment. No matter how warm the days, at six-thousand feet Wyoming summer evenings were cool; she could already feel the drop in temperature through the thin cotton of her shirt.

Her jacket was in the car where she had tossed it. She leaned in to get it. body supple as a willow, though a great deal more shapely, straightening again to view the house as she slid her arms into the sleeves. Two storeys of mellowed timber fronted by wide verandas, it fulfilled her mental image of what a ranch-house should look like to a degree. There was even an iron triangle hanging from a beam, complete with dangling metal rod. Used to summon guests over to the house for meals, she hoped. That would really add to the atmosphere!

The girl who appeared on the veranda was no detriment to the picture either. Small and slender in her jeans and blue and white checked shirt, and sporting a riotous crop of chestnut curls above a piquantly pretty face, she came running eagerly down the three broad steps.

‘Hi, Alex! It’s great to meet you at last!’ She went up on her toes to deliver a kiss on the cheek, laughing unaffectedly when her aim went a bit askew. ‘Aren’t you lovely and tall! Should have known you would be! Greg told me how much alike the two of you were.’ She stood back to direct a frank appraisal. ‘You’re more gorgeous even than I imagined! Is your hair natural?’

‘I’ve been known to have it streaked a time or two, but, otherwise, yes,’ Alex confirmed, laughing with her. ‘And you’re pretty gorgeous yourself, sister-in-law.’

‘Oh, gosh, we are, aren’t we? Sisters-in-law, I mean. I always wanted a sister!’

‘So how about saying thank you to the man who provided you with one?’ said Greg.

Margot flung her arms about his neck, the sheer adoration in her sparkling hazel eyes catching at Alex’s heartstrings. ‘Thank you, honey! Thank you, thank you, thank you!’

‘No need to overdo it,’ he admonished. He kissed the end of her nose and put her back on her feet, turning her about to deliver a light slap on her pert behind. ‘To duty, wench, or it’s going to be supper-time before we’re ready for it. Take Alex up to her room while I get the bags.’

A regular master of the house, thought Alex amusedly, moving to accompany the younger girl indoors. Not that Margot appeared to have any objections to being ordered around. That she was totally overboard where Greg was concerned was only too patently obvious.

It was too early as yet to say whether Greg returned any real depth of feeling, although, judging from his attitude just now, Alex somehow doubted it. Tolerant affection was the closest she could come to describing it, yet they’d been married little more than three months. Hardly time for the honeymoon to be over.

The house was no disappointment inside, either. Arches gave access to what looked like a vast living room on one side of the wide, pine-floored hall, and an equally vast dining room on the other, the central staircase branching left and right to open galleries.

The room Alex was to occupy was at the front of the house. Timber all the way through, it had woven rugs scattered across the floor and a hand-crocheted cover on the king-sized bed. The two windows were small and multi-paned. Designed to better resist the winter cold, Alex judged, loving the ambience of the place.

‘There’s a bathroom two doors down, and another the other side but no en suite I’m afraid,’ said Margot apologetically. ‘The guest cabins all have private facilities, but Cal said we’d knocked things about enough without trying to incorporate them here. Apart from the living and dining rooms, we don’t have paying guests in the house anyway. I hope you’ll be comfortable,’ she added, looking round. ‘It isn’t exactly luxurious.’

‘It couldn’t be better,’ Alex assured her. ‘None of it could!’

She went over to a window, looking down on the scene below with elation bubbling inside her at the thought of the days to come. Humping saddles, the recently returned party was headed for one of the barns, leaving their mounts in the confines of the corral. Another group of riders was coming in through the overbarred gateway, with its swinging sign. A working party this time, she guessed, spying coiled lariats hanging from one or two pommels. The real McCoy!

She watched the men dismount and start unsaddling, her eyes coming to rest on one lean and rangy figure in a beige shirt. The horse he was stripping was lean and rangy too, its hindquarters packed with muscular power. A fitting partnership, she thought, studying the taut stretch of blue jeans across hard male hemispheres.

‘Oh, good, the boys are back,’ exclaimed Margot, coming to stand beside her. ‘That’s my brother in the fawn shirt. We’re not a bit alike, as you can see even from here. He’s a Forrester through and through, whereas I take after my mother’s side. Cal more or less brought me up. I was only ten when Dad was killed. I owe him an awful lot.’

‘He only did what any brother would do in the same circumstances,’ said Greg, a trifle brusquely, from the doorway. ‘Don’t make a hero out of him.’

Margot laughed, apparently oblivious to any implied criticism. ‘Cal would be the last to want that. Can I help you unpack?’ she added ingenuously to Alex as the two cases were lifted onto the bed. ‘I’ll bet you have some lovely things!’

‘Judging from the weight, there’s a lot of them for certain,’ commented Greg on a lighter note. ‘Show me the woman who can go anywhere without taking her whole wardrobe!’

‘Show me the man who can refrain from making the same old comment,’ retorted Alex, equally lightly. ‘I didn’t bring anything particularly dressy, Margot, but I’d be grateful for some help in putting what I have brought away.’

‘You’ve only just time for that shower before supper,’ Greg warned her. ‘Less than half an hour.’

A shower wasn’t going to take her more than five minutes, Alex could have told him, and she certainly wasn’t going to be piling on make-up for the evening, but she took the point. Apart from what she needed for now, the unpacking could wait.
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